


This Will Be Our Year

by moon_toast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV Albus Severus Potter, POV Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, Slytherin Scorpius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 09:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_toast/pseuds/moon_toast
Summary: A year after graduating from Hogwarts, Albus Potter is stuck living with his parents and working at the family joke shop, while Scorpius studies to become a Healer.They miss each other and are brought together when Scorpius asks Albus to join him in attending the Ministry Gala that occurs each start of term... much to both their dread and delight.While they each struggle with confidence issues in very different ways, the timing just might be right for them to admit their feelings for one another (duh).Alternates POV between Albus and Scorpius (but a bit heavier on Albus).Listen to the song "This Will Be Our Year" by The Zombies if you want to.





	This Will Be Our Year

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written fanfiction before. I've only ever read some, but after reading and then seeing Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (in London with the original cast) I felt ... inspired. 
> 
> I would love to get feedback or anything! If you like it, hate it, meh it, lemme know! 
> 
> Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors. 
> 
> And I'm fully aware that this story doesn't have enough conflict in it; it's just fluff and internal monologues, really. 
> 
> \-- Also I know ppl don't just disapparate in and out of the ministry of magic, but I liked the scene enough to leave it as is... sorry... --

“This Will Be Our Year” 

\---

*** ALBUS ***

Albus was awoken by the aggressive tinkling of Lily’s alarm clock charm that produced hovering, shimmering birds emitting a musical sound. Lily smiled with a sadistic edge, per usual, waving her wand above him. 

“Mooooorningggg,” she stretched it out, gleeful. 

He rubbed his eyes. Living with one’s parents was pathetic enough, but this was doubly reminded to him during the summer break when Lily was home. Something about how changed Lily was, after just another year at Hogwarts, made Albus feel pointedly lame.  
Not that he hadn’t felt lame since he was about ten or so but living at home still for a year after graduating from aforementioned school made him notice it more. 

“Isn’t it just the best alarm?” 

Lily’s voice was full of that gleam, the one that suggested that she was simultaneously evil and bemused. 

Albus groaned. Why was she in his room anyway? 

“What are you even doing in here?”

“It’s nearly ten. The parents demanded I wake you. And this was my gentlest way of doing so. Now get out of bed.”

It was hard to get out of bed when you didn’t have anything to get out of bed for, he thought but kept this rather depressing thought to himself.

“Just a minute longer,” he countered, and she sighed, but lied back next to him. She was sensitive to his moodiness since Hogwarts graduation, and probably handled it better than anyone else. 

All throughout the year it had been, “How is the job search coming?” and “What career are you pursuing?” and “Thinking about working at the ministry with your family?” and that sort of thing. Albus just wasn’t like everyone else. In so many ways, he felt, but also with this job situation. He didn’t want to take advantage of his parents, but he still hadn’t found where he fit. His lack of fitting in at school continued into his (somewhat) adult life. 

“Dad is making French toast. He says the morning of the dreaded Ministry Gala calls for it.” 

“Ergh, I forgot about that blasted party.” 

At this Lily smiled. His younger sister was annoying, sure, but for a moment they lay, snuggled in his bed, with an ease of comfort with one another that couldn’t be said for Lily or Albus with any of their other family members. She sat up, flicking her auburn waves about her shoulder. When she stood, he knew she wanted him to follow. 

“I’ll be down in a few,” he supplemented. Everybody knew his dad took his French toast seriously and, Albus would, therefore, try to attend breakfast (brunch?) with the normality of attitude that he had maintained to his best ability since graduating Hogwarts.

After Lily left, the birds faded away, except for one that rested on the lone pillow next to Albus. Its shimmer faded, voice quieting to a low somber hoot. 

In these twelve months, he had seen his best friend Scorpius exactly twenty-seven times. He knew it was lame to have kept track. But since being at Hogwarts together, where they lived in the same dorm room and were as close as best friends could be, these visits had been sort of a big deal. Did he assume that he and Scorpius would live together after Hogwarts? …Yes. But he had never clearly mentioned it, and Scorpius had gone on to training as a Healer, and lived with other such students in London, whereas Albus remained with his parents. 

So, when they met it was whenever Scorpius had a free moment, which made it much rarer than Albus would have liked. It was a weird combination of horrible and easier, no longer living with Scorpius. He missed him, being apart was torture, but he also wasn’t as tempted. Like he was at meeting four out of the twenty-seven, when they clinked Butterbeers at the Leaky Cauldron, and Scorp got one of those foam mustaches that just beg to be kissed off, or even meeting eleven out of twenty-seven when they celebrated Scorp’s first passing exam score, eating buttery spaghetti (he forgot to get sauce), side-by-side on the couch, shoulders touching. 

One of his favorites was Meeting Number twenty-one when Scorp had an awkward meeting with a professor, and Albus had parodied that line, the one that had ultimately changed his feelings toward Scorp forever, but at that moment, he had used it as a way to deflect Scorp’s humiliation: 

“If I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal lameness, I’d choose you.” 

He said it, and Scorpius had laughed, returning, “That seems like the kind of lame joke that I would make.” 

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.” 

But that phrase made Albus blush, while Scorpius barked a loud laugh. 

“We’ve been friends for so long, I’d rather my studiousness rub off on you than my lame sense of humor.” 

“Nah, you’ll always be the geek. And I’ll be the… um… weird Potter.” 

“Some might say weird, others might say best.” 

“Nobody says best when it comes to me.”

“I do. Best friend.”

Albus remembered rolling his eyes at this corniness, but his insides mingled with pleasure and sadness, that bittersweet word, “friend.” He loved being best friends, but the inescapable longing was there. He knew he should have come up with a sarcastic response, as he was known for, but instead, he just looked at his friend, best friend, and they just sat there, looking. Scorpius with his absurdly beautiful combination of paleness, silvery eyes, sharp angles, slight posture; overwhelming warmth and intelligence and enthusiasm that bounded off of him. 

Ugh. 

Albus coughed and came up with some half-assed joke about Scorpius only having Rose to compare himself to as a friend, a retort that should have come about twenty seconds earlier. 

The twenty-eighth meeting between them was just about to occur. Albus was working the afternoon shift at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, not the high adventure or well-paying ministry gig everyone had expected him to secure after Hogwarts, but enough to make some money in the meantime while he was supposedly figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. 

After the fourth-year stuff, he did a little better in his classes, was actually rather good at Potions, but suffered from intense test anxiety, and this directly affected his O.W.L and N.E.W.T results, making him the stupidest of the Potter/Weasley/Grangers to exist. And thus; the pity job at the family shop. 

“The love potions only recreate infatuation, and honestly, I don’t think they’re a good idea in the long run…” Albus found himself telling a couple of third-years on summer vacation. The maroon robes weren’t particularly flattering on him, and he wasn’t super good at selling the products, especially the ones he found somewhat demoralizing. 

“Will it be enough to get a date?” A nebbish teen asked, anxiously. 

“Erm---” Albus luckily was overpowered by excited affirmation from the teens’ friends. 

“Honestly surprised they’re still selling those here.” The voice belonged to Scorpius, and Albus whipped around, failing to conceal his delight. 

“You know those Weasleys, anything to make a buck.” Albus’ response was facetious but delivered somewhat breathlessly. Scorpius was ridiculous-- his hair windswept, his muggle clothes unassuming but attractive, his cheeks pink from the summer heat. Damn him. 

“It’s good to see you. It feels too long,” Scorpius beamed. 

“Only been twelve days.”

“You been keeping track?”

“Well, I mean, just a guess—"

Albus blushed and deflected to sorting out some nearby Pygmy Puffs.

“I’ve been too. I mean, I’m sorry I wasn’t at Lily’s birthday party last week. Bloody exams.” 

Scorpius always attended the Potter/Weasley family celebrations. Being such an ardent fan of sweets, the chocolate cake Albus’ grandma made was usually Scorpius’ highlight of any gathering. When the cake was brought out at Lily’s party, candles alight, Albus felt his throat choking up, envisioning Scorpius grabbing the biggest piece. This memory rushed back to him, embarrassingly visceral. 

“Without you, there was no one there to sing along with my grandma to Celestina Warbeck… thankfully,” Albus smirked. 

“I know you really love it when I sing.”

“Love is stretching it.” 

“You wound me, Albus. I shall have to repay you with my rendition of a Celestina Classic—"

“That won’t be necessary—”

“Ooooh, my baby gave me a cauldron full of hot strong loooove …”

Albus covered Scorpius’ mouth to stop his singing, both dissolving into laughter, scandalizing the nearby teens. Noticing their closeness and the heat of Scorp’s breath on his hand, Albus removed it quickly but decided to take a risk... 

“It just wasn’t the same without you.” 

Suddenly, Albus found himself wrapped in a tight hug. It was warm and so nice… it was lasting a bit long for a hug, but he couldn’t tear himself away. 

“Are you being paid a generous hourly wage to hug the customers?” 

Uncle Ron bellowed across the store, forcing Albus to spring away from Scorpius and a blush to creep up his neck (He was like a second year with the goddamn blushing!). 

“Scorpius, good to see you! Albus, I need you alert on the floor, not dilly-dallying with the boyfriend.”

Albus remembered his dad quoting Aunt Hermione saying that Uncle Ron had the emotional range of a teaspoon and thought this was an accurate description at the moment. 

“Erm, I haven’t got a boyfriend, you know that Uncle Ron.” Albus sputtered.

“Sure, sure, back to work Albus!”

Scorpius flared with pinkness, nearly blending in with the Pygmy Puffs surrounding them. Ron chuckled and dashed away. 

“Git,” Albus rolled his eyes. 

“Even though he hates my dad, I sorta love your Uncle Ron.” 

“That makes one of us.” 

“I heard that,” Ron called, his voice god-like, coming from nowhere. 

Scorpius laughed, while Albus moved onto sorting out the portable swamps, his wand flicking them into order. 

“So um.” Scorpius began. He was struck by an unusual quietness. Albus knew him to be one to rant, particularly about geeky things, and it was something he loved, so this pause gave him an inkling something as up. He kept himself busy, moving onto the Boxing Telescopes. One package was partially opened, so he took out the telescope for inspection.

“All of the healer trainees have been invited to the Ministry thing tonight, I guess as a sort of networking thingy.” 

“That’s cool?” Albus didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but he had been actively avoiding the Ministry party for years. With half his family working there he had attended once as a kid, had a hellish experience, and had thus never returned. 

“They told us we could bring someone. And I was thinking that it could be nice if maybe you were to go with me? You know, if you don’t want to you don’t have to, seriously, don’t feel obligated to go with me, I know parties aren’t your thing, just thought I’d ask in case you literally had nothing else to do but you probably already have plans or a date or something I don’t know, but it could be cool maybe so I wouldn’t have to go alone and who knows it could even be fun--” 

“I’ll go.”

Albus abruptly cut off Scorpius’ rambling, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“That is… cool.”

“I’m uh, surprised you didn’t have someone else to ask, maybe that bloke Gavin, you’ve mentioned or Rose or someone…” Albus fiddled with the telescope. Gavin was a handsome healer trainee that Scorpius had befriended, and while Albus was happy for his friend to have a new friend, he didn’t like how unnecessarily chiseled Gavin’s jawline was, and how perfectly sculpted his biceps appeared. 

There was a pause, where the air was nearly thick with Albus’ unasked question of are you asking me as a last resort, or do you really want to go with me?

“No, Gavin, he’s a friend, but he and Rose will both be going already anyway, and I guess I sort of just wanted to go with you.” Scorpius seemed to blush, but it was hard to tell, and Albus felt himself gawking. 

The Boxing Telescope Albus had been inspecting decided to punch him in the eye at that moment. 

“Ow!” Apparently, it was in working order.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, these blasted things.”

He thrust it back on the shelf. It was only the second time he had been asked to a party as a plus one… the first was in their sixth year. They brought back the Yule Ball, and a girl, a pretty and popular fifth-year Ravenclaw, had asked him to go with her. 

Being suddenly and quite horridly aware of his super-secret crush on Scorpius at the time, and somewhat flattered by the attention, he accepted the invitation, only to later learn she only fancied him for his similar appearance to his father. This was the first of many attentions of this variety, which, combined with his persistent feelings toward Scorpius, kept him embarrassingly single. 

Soon after the incident, Albus and the Ravenclaw girl were completely unassociated with one another, and he briefly (stupidly) entertained telling Scorpius his feelings. 

But on the Hogsmeade trip that closely followed, Scorpius had been asked to go to the Three Broomsticks by a seventh year Hufflepuff, their team’s annoyingly handsome seeker, and he had accepted. It was only one date, but Albus was confirmed of three things: (1) that Scorpius was open to dating dudes but (2) was obviously not interested in him that way and (3), worst of all, he liked strawberry-blonde, generically-attractive Hufflepuff quidditch players, a type that couldn’t be more opposite Albus. 

Now Albus stood before his friend, his eye blackening, feeling incredibly heartsick and foolish. 

“Thanks for saying you’ll go with me. I think we’ll have fun.” Scorpius smiled. 

“So long as you promise not to burst into song again.” 

“You know that’s a promise I can’t keep.”

Scorpius’ fingers reached forward to Albus’ eye area. 

“Does it hurt? It’s bruised quickly.” 

“I’m sure I can get my mum to help with it, wouldn’t want to look a fool as your date, I mean, you know, going with you, like, wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of all your Healer friends…” Albus trailed off, sinking into the floor, annoyed with himself for how quickly his brain turned to mush after Scorpius barely touched him. 

“You could never embarrass me.” Scorpius voice was quiet, certain. Albus chanced a glance at him, and he observed Scorpius biting his lip. Merlin. “Anyway, my friends are really excited to meet you!”

Meeting new people, my favorite, Albus sardonically thought…

“I know meeting new people isn’t your favorite, but they’re all really nice, and besides, we’ll only hang out with them briefly, I see them enough as it is.”  
“I’ll be happy to meet them.” 

“Thanks, Alby. I know it isn’t your thing.” 

Albus shrugged but couldn’t help the smile creeping on his face (he loved when Scorpius called him “Alby,” but hardly anyone else got away with it). “I’m excited to go with you. But for now, I should probably get back to work, or whatever. Don’t want Uncle Ron coming out here again.” 

“How about what he said earlier? About us being boyfriends or something.” Scorpius chuckled lightly, but Albus’ stomach twisted. 

“I guess he runs a joke shop, so he thinks he’s funny.” 

“Yeah.” 

Albus had a brief urge to interlock his fingers with Scorpius’, they were standing close enough together, it wouldn’t be too hard. But he shoved his hands in his pockets. He was being dumb. And he was sure he looked dumb, not saying anything, just staring at his friend’s hand. 

Scorpius looked from Albus to his watch, his eyes bulging. 

“Oh no, I was supposed to meet my study group twelve minutes ago.” 

“Studying over the weekend?”

“I know, my geekiness is a-quivering,” Scorpius grinned, mocking his younger self, before looking anxiously back at Albus. “I’ll see you tonight, then? Maybe we can meet at your parents before heading out to the party, or, um, if that’s okay, didn’t mean to suppose…”

“That would be nice, yeah.” 

“Okay.” Scorpius grinned, with perhaps a bit of shyness.

“Okay.” Albus couldn’t help but return the expression, feeling his face glowing. 

“See you then,” and with one last look, Scorpius disapparated. 

Just after the familiar crack, Uncle Ron sidled up next to Albus, making him jump. 

“Shit, Uncle Ron, you can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

“I can do whatever I like, the shop says Weasley on it, doesn’t it?”

“That it does,” Albus admitted, calming his breaths, looking up at his freckly Uncle, whose eyes were twinkling knowingly. “What?”

“What what?”

“What’s that look on your face?”

“I’m just excited for you, finally getting a date with the Malfoy offspring, is all.” 

“First of all, his name’s Scorpius. Secondly, it’s not a date!”

“I know a date when I see one. Never forget, I managed to snag the Brightest Witch of Our Age, Miss Hermione Granger, the Minister of Magic herself.” 

“No idea how.”

“Animal magnetism.” 

“What?”

“It’s totally a thing.”

“Sure.”

Uncle Ron sighed. “You know, as weird as it is for me to say, Malfoy would be lucky to have you.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening. It’ll never happen.”

He received the probing Weasley expression in response; the comedically raised eyebrow and pursed lips. 

“Never say never, Albus.” 

“But Scorp, well. He’s too good for me.”

Albus hadn’t meant to say it, but he was feeling all vulnerable after seeing his friend and it was that almost-back-to-Hogwarts time of year and everything. He hadn’t really admitted this amount of his feelings to anyone outside of his siblings (Lily was annoyingly perceptive and he idiotically asked James for advice one time, a decision that continued to haunt him), certainly not to his parents, and wasn’t expecting to tell Uncle Ron. But as much as he might’ve wanted to freeze the words in the air and swallow them back, he felt some relief. 

“That’s not true. Albus, if anyone knows that feeling it’s me. I was plagued with it for almost my whole life. Think about my brothers, my wife, hell, think about your dad, my best friend, who happened to save the entire Wizarding World. But it’s not about that. Whether you work at a joke shop or as a quidditch player, it doesn’t matter.” Uncle Ron clapped a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “So-- get some balls. I’ll be at that party, and I better see you locking that shit down.” 

“For a moment there you almost had me feeling things, Uncle Ron. Very nearly inspiring.” 

“They’ll write that on my tombstone: Here lies the Minister of Magic’s husband and the Boy Who Lived’s best friend… Very Nearly Inspiring.” Albus chuckled. “Now go deal with those kids upstairs, I can see they’ve decided to sneak some nosebleed nougats.” Uncle Ron let him go, and went along his merry way, humming contentedly. 

Albus headed upstairs toward the children with bloody noses. He appreciated Uncle Ron’s sentiment, but even Uncle Ron couldn’t really understand. He was still an instrumental part of defeating Voldemort, wasn’t he? Whereas Albus… had nothing. Nothing but a shit ton of emotional baggage, frustratingly similar looks to his famous father (except with wilder hair (somehow), stupid freckles, and an unathletic posture), mediocre at best magical abilities, an overall sarcastic and sulky attitude he couldn’t seem to shake, and a part-time job at his family’s joke shop. He had nothing… but at least he had an invitation to a party with Scorpius Malfoy. 

Maybe this will be our year, he thought, before showing the bloody-nosed kids to eat the other side of the nougats. 

*** SCORPIUS ***

Scorpius walked, or rather floated, through the late summer heat of London, wiping the newly formed sheen of sweat off his forehead. He couldn’t believe what he had done. There was no way he was going to be able to focus at study group now… he found that he had wandered for so long, reeling from his conversation, that he would be over half an hour late anyway. In a completely out of character move, he decided not to go study. 

Malfoy the Unaxious, he had once referred to himself as, but now he could feel his hands shaking with adrenaline. Scorpius the Dreadless. Well, he had certainly dreaded inviting Albus to the party, while also being excited… terrified… too many emotions to enumerate, and his body was feeling the aftermath of them all. He couldn’t tell if Albus could tell if he wanted it to be a date or not. It was tricky. He didn’t want Albus to know but he also did want Albus to know… but he also didn’t. He needed to speak with Rose. 

He found her in the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic at her temporary desk as an intern, in the middle of some paperwork. 

“I’m assuming you asked my idiotic cousin to the Ministry Party and now you’re here to rant about the conversation?” Rose’s tone was half-joking, half-sympathetic. 

“Can you take lunch?”

She nodded. “I’m sure no one will report me to the Minister, my mother. Besides, it’s nearly one-thirty and I haven’t taken a break yet.” 

They ventured into Muggle London, tucking into sandwiches and tea at their favorite Victorian cafe adjacent the British Museum. It had ornate wallpaper and a secluded basement that felt homey to the wizards, and the baristas often supplemented Scorpius with free cake when he studied there for hours on end during the semester. The other Healer Trainees teased him for liking the Muggle setting, but he didn’t care. He had learned not to care so much about the opinions of others since his days of being bullied at Hogwarts. 

“I take it my dumbass cousin said yes since you’re eating?”

“I wish you wouldn’t use foul language to describe Albus.” 

“You know I mean it as a term of endearment. He knows I love him… Probably…” 

“I shouldn’t have asked him… Not sure what I was thinking…” Scorpius muttered, almost not hearing her. 

“So, he said yes, then?”

“He did. But I’m not sure he knows… well, maybe I didn’t make it clear… oh geez, I really didn’t make it clear it was maybe going to be like a date.” 

“Did you tell him that Gavin asked you and you said no?”

“No. Should I have?”

“It could have made it clearer to him that you weren’t just asking him as a friend or as a last resort.” 

Scorpius groaned. “That makes so much sense. I thought I was being so obvious but of course he’d think that.” 

Rose extricated her steeping tea leaves and took a sip. “You know that’s okay, right? You’ll have plenty of opportunities at the party to make the date-aspect of it all clear. You just need to form a plan.” 

Scorpius’ mouth fell open a bit. 

“A plan?”

“You’re really smart, which is why we’re friends, but you can also be somewhat daft.” 

“I don’t disagree with you there. I felt so stupid today, rambling on with excuses as to why he should go with me… god." How am I so lame? So eternally lame, Scorpius thought, not for the first time. 

“Snap out of this self-pity business; we’re going to figure this out. Okay?”

“Alright.” 

“The plan will be that you’ll dance with him and at some point, you’re going to kiss him. Think you can do that?”

“Erm…”

“You can. I believe in you.”

“I appreciate your confidence. But, Rose, I mean, I don’t even think he’s gay.” 

“I’m not sure about that either, but he’s clearly into you. He’s been giving you googly-eyes since fourth year. Trust me, it’s been nauseating.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. We’re not at Hogwarts anymore. There’s nothing stopping you.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

Rose paused, thinking for a moment. “Well, while we were at school if you had confessed your feelings and Albus didn’t return them you would have been stuck in the same dorm, and that would have been awkward… plus you two were sort of each other’s only friends for a while there, so you had that whole don’t-want-to-ruin-the-friendship excuse by your side. But now, in the real world, neither of those things hold up as much, do they?” 

“I still don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“I think your friendship is strong enough to take it. That’s just my expert opinion, but you know, why trust me, I’m only the brightest witch of our age.”

“Has anyone ever actually said that?”

“So many people, Scorpius. So many.” She added one of her, I’m Rose Granger-Weasley, and I’m better than you but you love it, smiles, before her face turned serious. “Why do you think it’s taken you so long?” 

“I’m not sure.” But it sounded more like a question than an answer. Rose raised her brows.

Scorpius sighed. “I guess I mostly just can’t imagine he’d like me. I mean, I don’t have low self-esteem or anything. But… he’s Albus. And I’m…”

“Scorpius?”

“Yes. Yeah. I’m… pretty geeky. And a Malfoy. Even though we’re best friends, my brain won’t let me believe that he could like me like that. Because I’m this—weirdo.” 

“You know we’re all weirdos, right?” 

“Not you. Not Albus. You guys are children of the people who saved the world. And I’m… an outcast.” 

“None of that stuff really matters. Besides, you’re already friends with him. What’s the difference?”

“It’s different. His parents barely tolerate me as it is.” 

“That’s not true. All the Granger-Weasley’s agree. Scorpius Malfoy is a delight.” 

Scorpius chuckled, but still pinked, unsure of himself. He knew that as a friend they accepted him. But as a lover? Why did he have to use the word “lover?” As a… boyfriend… he wasn’t sure they would be cool with it. If they were married—in his wildest dreams—he felt certain that it would be weird. 

“Repeat after me: I am a delight. And I will get with Albus Potter.” 

“Eerie to hear you say that—”

“I’m not fucking around, Scorpius. Repeat it.”

“Erm, okay. I… am… a delight. I will get with Albus Potter.” 

“See. Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

He smiled. 

“You must promise to stick to the plan. You’re gonna kiss him at this party. Deal?” She stuck out her pinky. 

“What is… what are you doing?”

“Oh my god, I know you’re a Malfoy, but some Muggle things should really be ubiquitous at this point…” 

“I’m not anti-Muggle Rose, you know that—”

“Just, stick out your pinky, like me… aaaand…” Rose wrapped her pinky around Scorpius’ foraging a pinky promise, “Perfect.” 

Scorpius liked this pinky promise business and appreciated Rose’s direction and support, but the thought of kissing Albus made him feel… sweaty. And many other things. He had been thinking about kissing him since returning from that world, that alternate world that he never liked to think about, that occasionally resurfaced in his nightmares if he hadn’t slept in too long. Maybe it’s because I thought he didn’t exist, he reasoned with himself, but the desire to kiss and generally touch, etc. continued, cropping up at the most inconvenient moments. 

Albus wasn’t only his light in the darkness, as Snape had helped him to realize years ago; he loved him and was in love with him, as much as you could be without having the feelings reciprocated. He felt that Albus loved him as a friend, but beyond that was really hard to determine, despite Scorpius’ research on the matter. Scorpius knew he had to get some distance from Albus after Hogwarts, after being stuck in the Slytherin dorm with him, occasionally sharing a blanket on the common room couch by the fire, sometimes falling asleep in the same bed after late-night talks, spotting Albus in the Quidditch stands and knowing that he was just there to cheer Scorpius on, those brilliant but cruel moments of seeing Albus just after a shower, shirtless, hair wet… 

Scorpius took a bite of his sandwich. Being away from Albus just clarified his feelings further, unfortunately, whatever he thought might fade had only strengthened. And over their last several visits he occasionally would receive a signal from Albus that he maybe felt some similar feelings… maybe… but he could have been reading into things or seeing things the way he wanted to see them. Were their hugs longer lasting than normal dude friends’ hugs? But how could they have gone through what they did and not be as close as they were? On the other hand, that still just meant they were best friends, right? However, did people assuming they were together mean it already was sort of that way? What of their lack of dating other people? Did Albus blush around him earlier at the Weasley joke shop? He had too many questions. Too many memories that nearly blurred the lines. 

A favorite recently was the two of them going to the movies. It was a Muggle activity they started enjoying after their troublesome fourth-year adventure. They found out on accident that movies relaxed them both, and so would go sometimes in London, sometimes to the obnoxious Odeon in Leicester square, sometimes to the dodgier, historic Prince Charles theatre, whatever was convenient. They went to a midnight showing of some Muggle classic, the theatre they were in had a starry ceiling. Albus fell asleep, his head on Scorpius’ shoulder, nestling his body against him. Scorpius had allowed himself to enjoy it, the tugging feelings and flurrying emotions it brought, and later felt super lame for being so excited for this amount of physical touch. He was 19 and should definitely not be feeling like a hormonal preteen, but that’s what happened around his friend. 

Scorpius had dated, or rather, had had a few first dates while being friends with Albus, all distractions. Albus hadn’t, but then again, he was so wary of people only being interested in him because of his famous father. This frustrated Scorpius to no end. He remembered one particular incident, in their seventh year, when they had finally been invited to a Slug Club party (Slughorn was somehow still alive; the man must have been over a hundred at that point yet still cared about networking or whatever it was that he did). 

Some Gryffindor girl had asked with Albus to dance with her, but they learned that this was in hopes of Harry or James showing up and having an in with them, by accidentally eavesdropping on a conversation with her friends. 

They were caught behind a partition, close together, and Scorpius’ remembered feeling the heat of embarrassment rolling off of Albus. 

“Don’t listen to her,” he had said, even though they were obviously doing just that. 

“I don’t know why I expected anything different,” Albus sulked. He was particularly excellent at sulking, his lips pouty in a way that was somehow attractive to Scorpius, while he felt tenderly for his friend. 

“You’re so much more than a Potter. You’re… Albus.” 

Albus just shook his head, still avoiding eye contact, but Scorpius could see the slight glint of tears in his green eyes. 

“Did you really like her, then?” He hated asking it, but was curious, while also trying to be a good mate. 

“No, not really. Not at all, actually.” 

“Oh. Then why did you agree to dance with her?”

“Well. I… I’m just trying to do what I’m supposed to do, I guess. You know. Go to this dumbass party, find a girl to dance with…” 

“I thought that’s what you wanted to do.”

“No. Honestly, Scorp, I would rather have just danced with you. Or, better yet, would rather for us to just hang in the common room, playing chess or something. Sorry, I know that sounds stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Scorpius tried not to smile but couldn’t help himself. Albus looked up at him, and his sad expression softened. They suddenly seemed to be standing closer together, facing one another, faces quite close… 

It was a moment that Scorpius sometimes wished he kept the time turner for… where he wondered if maybe, just maybe, if he had leant in… if Albus would have been open to maybe—

But no. He was done with time turners. He only had the future now. 

And as much as Rose tried to help him interpret her moody and mysterious cousin (as she called him), Scorpius had decided that he was going to try something. If there was even the slimmest chance for it to work, he knew he had to try. 

*** ALBUS ***

What do I wear to this bloody thing? Albus thought to himself, rummaging through his wardrobe. He groaned. What outfit said, I want to look good enough for my best friend to fall in love with me, but I also don’t want to appear like I’m trying too hard…? It was tricky. As much as he hated it, he was probably going to have to call for reinforcements… 

“A-Sev!” the manly voice of James preceded his arrival into Albus’ room. 

“Are you a Legilimens?” Albus asked before he could help himself.

“No. Why, you thinking about me? I know I think about me all the time.” James smiled. He was ridiculous. 

“No. Well. Are you going to this ministry party thing later?”

“Yes. Are you going? Don’t tell me, are mom and dad making you go for job connections?” 

“I am going, no not for job connections…” 

“Oh my god. You haven’t got a date, have you? Ah, I can tell by your face, someone’s got a hot daaaate!!!”

“Nah, just going with Scorpius.”

“So a semi-hot Malfoy date then.”

“Semi-hot?”

“He’s got something, hasn’t he? Sort of a hot nerd vibe. But he’s not really my type, you know, being a blonde and all.”

“Hot nerd? Also, you’re fairly heterosexual.” 

“Well, who knows. I’m sort of open to whatever. But that’s beside the point. You’ll need my help figuring out what to wear, I presume?”

Albus sighed and nodded. James grinned, peering into Albus’ wardrobe. After Albus’ fourth-year-stuff James had tried significantly- almost absurdly- hard to become a “good big brother.” At first Albus brushed him off, but eventually, he was worn down, and he and James had become sort of friendly, and although Albus acted irritated by James, he was secretly really pleased with the way things had turned out. 

James flicked through Albus’ wardrobe. “This is all sort of depressing. It’s all black or very dark gray. I think we should go shopping.” 

“Seriously?”

“Don’t you want Scorpy to see you in something he hasn’t seen you in before?”

“Must you call him Scorpy?”

“Yes, Albusy. I must. I think this will be an excellent brotherly-bonding activity, yeah, shopping…”

“Brotherly bonding?” The voice came from Harry, who had trudged up the stairs hovering a pile of folded towels. 

“Yeah Dad, sorry, our shopping trip will be strictly for brothers only.” 

“That’s alright, I’m just happy to see you two getting along.” At this James smiled, but Albus rolled his eyes. Even though his dad saved the world or whatever, he was still kind of a dork. “What are you guys going shopping for?” 

Albus looked tensely at James. 

“We want matching outfits for the Ministry party this year, I’ve decided to take Al as my plus one.” James was seriously smooth. *Siriusly smooth, Albus thought to himself, groaning at the pun in his mind, hoping James wasn’t actually a Legilimens, knowing it was exactly the sort of joke he would make. 

“That’s so wonderful, James.” Harry beamed. Ew, the fatherly happiness was positively suffocating (although, deep deep down, under layers of sarcasm and cynicism, it made Albus feel warm inside). “It’ll be really nice to have you at the party this year, Albus, I’ve missed you being there.”

“Really?” Albus spoke before he thought (not an unusual situation for him, really). 

“Oh yeah, nobody else dislikes the socializing quite as much as we do.” Harry grinned, and Albus gave him a small surprised smile. Sometimes he forgot that his dad could be shy. He was, as his mother was always eager to point out, in some ways, very similar to his dad. 

“You can count on me for that,” Albus responded. 

“Run along now, Dad, Al and I have work to do.” James was absurd but Harry laughed and turned the corner. 

“Thanks,” Albus said gruffly.

“You’re welcome. He wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Yeah.” Albus had a feeling his parents wouldn’t care that he liked Scorpius, but it was just another thing that made him different. So-called Slytherin Squib and queer, it was like he was doomed to be the black sheep. Sometimes he liked it about himself, but a lot of times he didn’t, and it felt like the rest of the world agreed with him those times. A small voice inside suggested he learn how to like himself more… But he pushed the voice away, slipping on his beat-up trainers and following James out of the house. 

Later, after hours spent with James helping him pick out the right outfit (if anyone with narrow heteronormative expectations had been watching they would have assumed James was the gay one), Albus found himself dressed up, fruitlessly attempting to smooth his hair with some Sleekeasy’s while anxiously awaiting Scorpius’ arrival. He could hear his family downstairs, all having pre-party Butterbeers. 

As he was cursing his hair in the mirror, his mother approached him, carrying a Butterbeer.

“Want some help?” Ginny asked. Albus nodded with a sigh. Since leaving Hogwarts, he had grown his hair out a bit longer, trying to distance himself from his father’s appearance but ending up with just a crazier tangle of waves down his neck and swirling above his head. 

Ginny, wearing gleaming golden dress robes, took some of the Sleekeasy’s and ran her fingers through his hair. He felt like a kid again and couldn’t help but enjoy the sensation. Somehow, she wrangled his waves into submission. 

“How were you able to…?”

“Many years of practice. You have to know how much to use and which way your hair wants to go.” 

They looked at her handiwork in the mirror as she handed him the Butterbeer. His hair was smooth, the waves still present but now defined and sleek, curling at the nape of his neck, and his dress robes were sharp, despite being a slight bit more attention-seeking than he would normally go with, a deep plum color with a textured pattern and slight metallic accents. 

“Would you like me to fix that black eye, or were you going for a sort of rugged look?”

“Me? Rugged?” Albus raised his eyebrows. “I’ll leave that to Dad.” They both chuckled. Ginny quickly fixed him, his skin returning to normal. 

“My boy looks so handsome.” 

“Ugh, Mom.”

“Sorry. You know…” she said, taking a breath. He could see that she was thinking hard about her next words. “I heard Scorpius will be showing up here soon to take you to the party this year.” 

It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t know how to respond… he eventually settled on shrugging (always a good default, if not a bit too teenager-ish). 

“I just wanted you to know if there’s anything you wanted to talk to me about, anything at all, I’m always here.” 

“Thanks, Mom. I know.” But he wasn’t talking. He couldn’t just now. 

“Scorpius!” They both jumped at Lily’s shriek from downstairs. 

“How about I go down there and send him up while you finish getting ready.” He was basically ready but knew she meant it as a courtesy. 

“Thanks, Mom,” he repeated himself, and they smiled at one another. Ginny was so warm, a strangely intense wave of gratitude passed through him, but evaporated as she left and seconds later, he heard Scorpius’ footsteps up the stairs. 

“Hey!” Scorpius entered. 

“Hey,” Albus responded while putting his shoes on.

“You look… really… good.” He felt Scorpius staring at him, which was… interesting. 

“Oh, thanks, it’s the dress robes. James helped me pick them out.” Albus stood up, nearing his friend who was shining, his dress robes edged with a spangled pattern, his hair artfully disheveled, opposite of the traditional sleekness of the Malfoys. Albus forced his gaze between Scorpius’ shoulder and his own shoelaces. 

“The dress robes…” Albus struggled to articulate, “…You look… brilliant.” Was that an okay word to use? He was unsure, but it didn’t matter at this point, he had already said it. The word was out there. Maybe he should have gone with something more bro-like. Or maybe something more suggestive? Dammit all to hell. 

“Your hair,” Scorpius began but didn’t finish.

“My mum helped me with it, I don’t know, seemed like a thing to do…” 

“You look older.” 

“Oh? That’s…”

“Not in a bad way. In a good way. Not that you don’t normally look good at your current age, or, hair, but yeah, I just mean it looks really nice.” 

“Thanks.” 

They had seen each other in dress robes before, obviously, but something had shifted, or at least that’s how it seemed to Albus. Maybe because they were both out of school or maybe because they were attending the party together… not that they hadn’t gone to parties together before, but it felt different? Whatever, he thought, pushing his analysis to the side. 

“I guess we should head downstairs.”

Scorpius nodded in agreement. 

*** SCORPIUS ***

The ministry was transformed into a resplendent summer scene. Floral garland, glimmering fairies, glowing greenery. Since walking in with Albus, Scorpius couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him but was momentarily distracted by the general splendor. By the time they had finished socializing at the Potter’s house (which involved a bit more Butterbeers and a lot of weird remarks from James and Lily and furious blushing from Albus that Scorpius tried not to read into) they were arriving when the party was already in full swing. A big band was set up and the dance floor was decently full, lights bouncing off their dress robes and faces in the dimmed room that was accented by floating orbs. 

But some of the people attending weren’t thrilled to see Scorpius. He knew his trademark platinum blonde hair and pointed face made him very obviously a Malfoy, which was a distasteful thing to be these days. But he ignored the grimaces. 

“Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” he heard Albus comment, his expression a mixture of hope and amusement. 

“That’s good news, I was sort of hoping you’d enjoy yourself.” 

“I just might.” Albus gave him a sneaky smile, and Scorpius felt his throat tighten and his brain buzz a bit. He grabbed some bubbling golden beverages off a nearby tray, that seemed to fizz with minuscule stars. Scorpius didn’t usually drink this much (the Malfoys were not like the Potters in their alcohol consumption, limiting fine meads only to mealtimes) and was already feeling tipsy, but it helped to take some of his anxious edge off, which was nice. He passed a goblet to Albus. 

“Cheers,” they clinked glasses, and Scorpius noticed that the rest of the Potters had easily disbursed and were mingling, which made him relax a bit. He really liked them, but in order to attempt The Plan, it would be easier without James and Lily giggling. 

He and Albus circled around, finding a comfortable area with a table to stand and people watch. Scorpius felt their closeness while they moved, and even as they stood it was a bit closer than what might be considered normal. He hoped he was properly ascertaining this information, but his head was feeling woozy from his goblet which seemed to automatically refill. From across the room, he made eye contact with Rose, who gave him a cheeky thumbs up. Scorpius grimaced anxiously in response, jerking his head away before Albus noticed. 

“It’s sort of fun to see my dad suffer.” Albus’ eyes were on Harry, who was, as usual, surrounded by people with a forced polite smile. “I’m sorry. That sounded mean.”

“It does, but you’ve always been a bit of a meanie.”

“A meanie? What are you, twelve?”

“You know I’m older than you, and I know it makes you mad. Just like how I’m taller than you.” Scorpius heard his own words slurring slightly. Was he drunk? Oh no.

“You’re only a few months older and a few inches taller.” 

“But it makes such a difference. Older… wiser… taller…” Scorpius stood up straight, lording his height over Albus, drinking from his goblet with over-the-top smugness before chuckling. Albus pulled an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, but smiled; however, his expression soon turned into thoughtfulness. 

“Do you really think of me as a, quote, meanie?” 

“You did say you enjoyed seeing your dad suffer.” 

“It’s not totally true, it’s just kind of funny. He looks so miserable and even though it’s so obvious those people won’t leave him alone. It’s ironic, or something. Besides, my mom will get him out of it when it gets too bad.” He was right. Scorpius saw Ginny edging Harry away from the group and toward the dance floor as though her life depended on it. 

Albus frowned again, anxiously running a hand through his hair, disrupting its sleeked perfection. Would it be weird if I smoothed out his hair? Scorpius wondered to himself. Is that a thing a friend would do? 

“I’ll try to be less of a meanie for you,” Albus said, snapping Scorpius out of his internal debate. 

“I was just teasing you, you know that, right?” Scorpius kept his tone light but knew the signs of Albus experiencing sensitivity. Albus shrugged, another graze through his hair, he must have forgotten how he fixed it, Scorpius thought, his heartbreaking a bit. “Albus, you’re one of the kindest people I know. It may be harder to notice since you’re more of an actions-person than a words-person. But there are so many kind things you’ve done for people, I could probably form a list, yes, a List of Albus Severus Potter’s Good Deeds.”

“You don’t have to, Scorpius—”

“Number one, I’m sure things happened before you met me, but when you did you befriended me, even though I was a Malfoy, even though I was rumored to be the heir of Voldemort.”

“You also were my friend, not sure if that counts.”

“Let’s see, you’ve learned anti-jinxes and counter curses just to help bullied students—”

“That was just, anyone would have—”

“You tutored Yann Fredericks in potions last year, even though he was horrible to you in our earlier years—”

“He apologized, and Potions was the only subject I was halfway decent at—”

“And you’re the best older brother to Lily. I know everyone always talks about James as the big brother, but you’re the one who helped her avoid Peeves and you showed her the Room of Requirement when she needed a place to practice.”

“That’s just standard brother stuff, really.” Somehow Albus was still able to brush off the good things he had done, and Scorpius hated how good he was at devaluing himself. 

“When we came back and I had panic attacks and nightmares and fears that I was in the wrong timeline, you were the only one who could really help me. And it wasn’t easy, I know.”

“I was the reason you were ever in that situation in the first place. I hate that I did that to you.” Scorpius knew he was trying to hide it, but Albus’ eyes were a bit teary.

“Please don’t. I wouldn’t want you being a meanie to yourself. Really have to stop saying that word.” At this he was able to make Albus smile a bit, but his eyes crinkled letting some tears fall onto his cheeks. He hurriedly wiped them. 

“Sorry, shouldn’t be bloody crying at a party. Didn’t mean for things to get so…”

“It’s okay.” 

“Bugger,” Albus exhaled and looked up at Scorpius. “Thanks, Scorp. What you said, it means a lot to me.” The emotion behind his eyes was so intense Scorpius was kicked into another mode, and without thinking too much, he reached forward and smoothed Albus’ hair. 

“You’ve gone and messed it up a bit.” Scorpius felt a jolt inside when he let his fingers lightly touch the side of Albus’ face. He needed to stop all this face-touching, he knew but also was acting more on instinct than logic, a rarity for him. Albus froze, his mouth slightly open. Scorpius’ hand similarly awkwardly stiffened. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, er,” Scorpius quickly muttered. 

“No, you didn’t, I didn’t, just surprised me is all.” Albus still seemed shocked but regained his composure somewhat, or so it seemed to Scorpius, who had placed his hands back on the table. What felt like an eternity (probably a minute at most) passed by in silence, when—a hand brushed against Scorpius’. His fingers tingled, spreading an alert through his whole body. “I was thinking, maybe now that my parents have cleared the area, could be a good time to dance if you’d want to dance with me?” Albus’ voice was quieter than normal, his eyes peering hopefully up at Scorpius, so green and framed by dark lashes. Oh geez. 

“That would be nice, yeah.” Scorpius tried to arrange his face into a pleasant, acceptably friendly smile, not that overly-excited, radiant, I’m-in-love-you-expression he felt his face turning into. 

He failed miserably. 

*** ALBUS ***

Something is happening to me, he thought, as things started happening almost in slow motion: he grabbed Scorpius’ hand and led him to the dancefloor! It was almost an out-of-body experience. One moment he was finally FINALLY making a move (he hates that he thinks of it in these terms but dammit if Uncle Ron didn’t get into his head), Scorp beaming at him, his dress robes refracting stars, his hair shining against the lights, his grayish-blue eyes looking straight into Albus’ own, and then they were intercepted. 

“Scorpius!” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

It was Gavin. The athletic, auburn-haired, just-Scorpius’-type (apparently) Healer trainee “friend.” 

“Gavin, hi!” Gavin hugged Scorpius, making him let go of his hand contact with Albus. “This is my best friend Albus,” Scorpius introduced him. 

“Nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” Gavin extended his hand. Albus shook it because he had to, even though on the inside he was sinking, far below, far away. 

“Pleasure,” he managed, but he knew his voice sounded rough. 

“A couple of us were going to find a good place for the fireworks, Scorpius if you want to join us.” Albus couldn’t help but notice how Gavin had only invited Scorpius. 

“Oh, is it getting close to that time already?” Scorpius nervously looked at his watch. 

“It’s less than an hour, but it gets pretty crowded, and the Weasley’s fireworks are not something to be missed!” 

Albus couldn’t believe it, as if somebody needed to tell him how spectacular the Weasley fireworks were. The nerve of this guy! Where did he get off, anyway? 

“You’ve got a point there,” Scorpius’ response was cheerful, but that’s how he was, cheerful and polite and nice and likable and positive and all those things that Albus generally wasn’t. It’s what drew him to Scorpius, but it went beyond attributes. Albus had felt, but never fully articulated, that they were drawn together like destiny, like it was written in the stars, or it could be found somewhere deep in the Department of Mysteries, or within the scent of his Amortentia, or in the Mirror of Erised, or anywhere deep and magical you could look; they were meant to be together. But his fate was cruelly twisted just moments ago, and he couldn’t handle it. 

“How about I get us some Butterbeers and we meet the others?” Gavin offered, slick as Sleekeasy’s. Albus ran his hands through his hair. 

“That sounds good, Albus?” Scorpius turned to him. 

“Why don’t you go, I, erm, I think saw my dad trying to flag me down, probably wants to introduce me to some people, you know, job stuff—”

“That’s right, you’re Harry Potter’s son, of course. You look so much like him. Must be fascinating.” Gavin grinned. He definitely crossed the line. Despite Scorpius’ perturbed expression, Albus knew he had to get out of there.

“Are you sure, Albus? I’ll go with you to talk to your dad,” Scorpius interjected.

“No that’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to keep away from your friends.” Albus attempted a polite smile, but it felt so wrong. He was being a good friend, right?  
“If you’re sure, but find me before the fireworks, okay?” There was an edge to Scorpius’ voice, but Albus just nodded and walked away, drinking from his goblet although he felt sick to his stomach. 

Somehow, he found his way to James and Lily, almost on auto-pilot, He hadn’t realized that his siblings had become his safety net, outside of Scorpius, but it had happened; his unconscious mind had sought them. They were chatting with a group mixed with Potters, Weasleys, Lovegoods, Longbottoms, etc.; the usual lot. Descendants of the world saviors and all that. 

“Albussy, what are you doing here?” James threw an arm around his younger brother. Albus leaned into this gesture more than he ever normally would, and Lily exchanged a glance with James, and the three edged away from the group. 

“Is it Scorpius?” Lily asked, her voice surprisingly quiet, mature, concerned. Albus was unable to make eye contact but Lily found Scorpius across the room with that other guy, Gavin. Arse. 

“You know, Albus,” James intercepted, strangely using his actual name, “There is a Potions master from the ministry here, was talking about how they need fall interns.” 

“Aren’t those positions reserved for recent grads?” The interest in his own voice surprised him, Albus realized. James was better at distracting him than he thought. 

“You still count as one of those,” Lily shoved him in a way that was meant to be teasing. 

“Yeah, with your test scores and last name, I’m not sure how they could turn you down. How about I drag you over there to talk to ‘em?” James sounded hopeful and brotherly, but also somewhat urgent. 

“Did Dad put you up to this? Mom?” That sort of pathetic voice eeked out of Albus, as his throat closed up a bit. He hated feeling this way, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Actually, no.” 

“Then why do you sound all… forced?”

“Because I want to distract you from boy problems. Or whatever. I also just really want you to do it because I think you’d like it.” 

Albus paused. He felt the room was swirling, and everything was being flung at him at once. 

“Isn’t it weird at all that we grow up and we’re just supposed to find something we’re good at so we can try to make a living with it?” Albus somehow had procured a goblet of elf-made wine and kicked it back. 

“It is a bit dumb, yeah.” Lily agreed. 

“But it’s sort of how it is. At least for now. Doesn’t mean it’s permanent. Besides, once you get that issue out of the way it’ll be easier for you to focus on your real problem.” 

“My real problem? Outside of being the lamest Potter?” 

“Nobody thinks that.” James took the goblet out of his hands and set it on the table nearby. 

“The only person who comes near to being lame in the Potter-Weasley clan is Uncle Percy,” Lily provided, as though reading from a textbook. “And he’s not so bad, once you get past the smug bits.” 

Albus slumped against the wall. They had successfully removed themselves from the populated part of the room and were now clumped behind the bar area, a glittering haze of fairies blocking Albus’ view. Through them, with edges of his vision sparkling and blurring, he saw Scorpius’ eyes, anxiously darting around the crowd. Is he looking for me? 

He looked back at his siblings, both of their big brown eyes on him. They both had Mom’s eyes while he got Dad’s. 

“I don’t mean to be self-deprecating all the time. And sulking. And just generally useless. Or generally saying that I’m useless. It’s just been tough. Sometimes… I’m not sure I can handle it.” Albus felt himself smiling, even though his eyes were flooding, he wasn’t sure why. Relief? Maybe? This made his brother and sister smile back at him. 

“I’m not sure where you got the idea that any of us are ‘handling it,’ per say,” James supplied, his eyes crinkling. 

“Yeah, you think I like people saying I remind them of our dead grandmother and asking me countless questions about the power of her love?” Lily laughed.  
“At least you’re not the Harry Potter look-a-like who’s a Slytherin Squib. And queer.” Albus admitted, at long last. 

“You’re not a Squib. You’re good at all kinds of magic. Especially Potions. If you want to have it, that internship is yours.” James squeezed his shoulder. Albus had to look away, the kindness nearly blinding him. “Even if you were a Squib it wouldn’t matter, ‘cause you’re Albus. And we love you.” 

“And nobody minds what you’re into. But thank you for telling us.” Lily hugged him. James latched on. 

“Potter group hug woooooo,” James announced, making them all laugh. 

Albus was nearly overcome with his emotions. Then— a song was being played. That stupid fucking Celestina Warbeck song Scorpius had been singing when he asked Albus to attend this party. Cauldron of love… 

“I will check out that internship stuff. I promise,” He looked furtively at James, instilling in them both that he actually would do it, but first… “Would you guys do me a favor?” Albus asked. They nodded. “Can we maybe dance to this song?” Lily saluted him, and grabbed the nearby relations and family friends, leading a large group to the dancefloor. Despite their bewilderment, they all seemed happy to join. 

Albus let himself go. Dancing with his siblings, his cousins, even Rose was somewhere in the mix… he felt a sense of release, throwing his arms into the air at the overly dramatic pop song. He felt this unusual sense of happiness with himself, like, if he was given the opportunity to change anything he wouldn’t. That he was- at that moment- totally himself, and that it was okay. This realization almost overwhelmed him, his throat even tightened for a moment, but he kept dancing, noticing James’ absurd dance moves, his choked-up-feeling morphing into laughter. 

Just above that emotional depth was a much lighter surface area that was just swimming with joy, he felt and knew that he could choose at times where he wanted to float. 

His eyes looked again across the room, this time, meeting with Scorpius’. With the slightest jerk of his head, he gestured for Scorpius to join him, his stomach flipping, hanging onto Scorpius’ response… which was to wave to Gavin and his comrades and disappear into the crowd, weaving his way to Albus. 

When Scorpius arrived, he held out his hand, a wordless request to join. Albus smiled and took it. They danced, jumping around, flailing their arms like idiots together. Albus found himself singing along with the ridiculous lyrics, looking straight at his best friend, who began laughing, the hugest smile across his face. It was very silly but, Albus, hoped, with a lurch in his throat, also romantic. He sang about his hot, strong love, after all. 

*** SCORPIUS ****

Albus singing along to Celestina was definitely a turn of events. To Scorpius’ delight, Albus’ hair was sticking up all over the place, the Sleekeasy residue just helping it reach its wild heights. Albus’ eyes shown, green, brilliant. There was something different about Albus, almost as though he was lighter, as though he was floating off the ground a bit. Maybe they were. 

Albus grabbed his hand and spun Scorpius, toward him and away from him, dizzying him from movement and contact. He made fleeting eye contact with Rose, who was dancing nearby. She gave him an encouraging, somewhat exasperated smile. 

The song ended, and Scorpius landed in Albus’ arms. His stomach dropped, feeling that maybe he would just go for it, just lean in-- 

“It’s Fireworks Time! 2 minutes until the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Summer Spectacular!” It was announced. 

Albus unfurled Scorpius somewhat awkwardly. 

“Want to get a good view,” Scorpius heard his voice, reaching its upper register, his awkward crack from fourth-year seeming to return out of nowhere. Blimey. 

“Uh sure, if you want to.” 

They followed the crowd to the next room, a massive space with a ceiling so high you couldn’t see where it ended and where the enchanted moonlit canopy above began. Hundreds of ministry officials and their guests gathered, and the room darkened. A vast, glassy surface appeared in front of them, reflective, like a lake. Music began, and a single firework flared above, piercing, golden, through the sky, glittering into constellations and butterflies. It was beautiful, Scorpius knew, but suddenly felt a well of sadness deepening within him. He wasn’t going to be able to enact The Plan. He had already had his chance on the dancefloor, and he wasn’t able to do it. Sure, he was smart and occasionally brave, but not enough to really be his true self. 

Star showers sprayed above, along with twirling dragons, singing phoenixes, and dizzying celestial beings, all made up of fire. He looked over at the golden light hitting Albus’ face, lighting up his eyes. Then-- that sharp ache inside of him, almost as though his chest physically ached. But Albus looked happy, so he felt himself also smiling, as he snapped his gaze away, not wanting to be caught staring. He couldn’t tell if when they were dancing and singing along earlier if it was a one hundred percent friendly moment or not, but he didn’t want to make Albus uncomfortable ever. That took precedence. 

But after a moment, he felt a pinky curling around his. He knew it wasn’t another pinky promise- and his other fingers softly looped with the rest of the hand. Albus’ hand. Albus was holding hands with him? It wasn’t something that had never happened before, but this situation had to be romantic. Probably? The fireworks… the music… the general merriment and haze of late summer, that dreamy feeling of periwinkle hues, and air that tasted of wine and moved with fluttering fairies. It was decidedly romantic! Right? 

Just slightly, he turned his head to see more of Albus out of his peripheral vision and saw that he was smiling to himself. He looked around the room, the wizards and witches, all with their eyes reflecting the fireworks before them. The wizarding world could be divided by hate, but he knew that it was mostly guided by love. Because magic is love, he felt, as the golden sparks of a Weasley-crafted hissing swans appeared before him, surrounded by booming red roses and spiraling stars. Tears flecked his eyes, then a breath warmed his ear, sending a tingling feeling down his stomach to his fingertips. 

“Want to maybe get out of here?” It was Albus, with a boldness that momentarily took his breath-- and voice-- away. He dumbly, simply, nodded. Albus' arm curled around his, his gut wrenched— he was side-along apparated away. 

Pop. 

They were outside the Potters’ house, in Godric’s Hollow. It was warm, the air thick with the honeysuckle smell of summer. 

There was a moment when they just stood. Scorpius wanted to do anything to break the scratchy silence. 

“I guess once you work at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes the fireworks aren’t as cool anymore.” Maybe not that. He internally groaned. Why did he always have to be so nerdy? But Albus laughed. 

“Nah, I mean, they were still pretty spectacular. I just.” He stopped. Brows furrowing, nearly forming a near-unibrow. “Let’s, uh, go inside.” He abruptly walked into the house, and Scorpius followed. 

Once inside, sitting down at kitchen barstools, the lights still mostly off, Albus quickly poured them both a shot of Firewhiskey. He shot his own back quickly, and Scorpius hesitantly followed suit. 

“Sorry, I just. Needed a bit of help.” Albus was looking anywhere but at Scorpius. 

“Albus. Are you okay?” 

“Yep.” But he went to drink more. Instinctually, Scorpius’ hand went to stop Albus’ from pouring the Firewhiskey bottle.

“Sorry mate, but I’ll never forget when you got hammered at our graduation. It’s my duty to keep you safe from yourself, and never let that sort of thing happen again.” Scorpius smiled and was relieved when Albus chuckled, withdrawing his hand from the bottle (sadly separating their contact). 

“God, that was so embarrassing.” 

“It wasn’t that bad.” 

“Not that bad? I believe the amount of cat-related questions I asked McGonagall was bad enough, let alone the way I cried over Hagrid’s Blast-ended Skrewts.” 

“It was sort of cute,” Scorpius said it before he could help himself. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the dimness of the kitchen, or the way they were all alone but for the sounds of summer outside. It was a different kind of magic from the fireworks, but still romantic, subtle, humming, present. 

“Sort of?” Albus smirked. Scorpius died a bit on the inside. He coughed.

“Yeah. Sort of.” Scorpius aimed his smile at the floorboards. 

“Scorpius.” 

He looked up. Albus’ face was alight. 

“I’ve just realized, I have to go back to the party to talk to this ministry person about a potential potions internship thing.” 

“Oh. Right. Well, we can go then.”

“No, well, in a moment. I wanted… to be alone with you. Somewhere away from my family, if just for a few minutes.” Scorpius felt a pulse thud through his whole body. His tongue thickened, he felt incredibly stupid but alert and alive all at the same time. “And since we’re wizards, I was like, we can apparate somewhere, but now I realize how overly-dramatic of a move that was…” Albus put a hand to his forehead, seemingly in pain. Scorpius swallowed thickly. Albus turned on his barstool to face Scorpius, their knees touching. 

“It’s, uh, okay,” Scorpius said. Sounding, regrettably, like a total dunce. He felt his view become an extreme close up between Albus’ lips and eyes, edges blurring. Now would be the time, a voice in his head said, just do it, like you promised Rose—

*** ALBUS ***

It seemed like maybe Scorpius was into it, he pondered to himself, sitting across from his best friend, their knees touching. Scorpius’ hair gleaming in the moonlit kitchen. The setting, which was very familiar to Albus as the place his dad cooked breakfast and Lily cleaned up the kitchen (and he avoided his chores) was eerily estranged, now a cove of late-night potential. 

Albus knew he had to say something. He was the one who brought them there, after all. 

“You know I’ve missed you.” The words left his mouth as though straight from his heart. He wasn’t letting his brain interfere, and he didn’t stop to think whether or not this was a good thing. He just let it happen. “I mean since you’ve been in Healer-training. Of course, like, I’m so happy for you. But I guess I just… miss being around you.” Maybe this – speaking from the heart – business was a horrid plan. He grimaced and ran his hands through his hair, looking away from Scorpius, pale twitchy nerdy gangly Scorpius, but then felt a hand on his hand. 

“I’ve missed you too. You know, if it were up to me, we’d be together all the time. But I also want to be a Healer, so…” Scorpius smiled at him. He wanted to be together all the time?! It was like a bubbling sensation rose beneath his skin, and deep in his stomach, a swooping feeling. 

“Maybe if I get this Potions internship in London then we can see each other more,” Albus said, hopefully, the words sounding quite logical if he did say so himself. 

“That would be great!” Scorpius smiled. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Scorpius held his hand. Was that some kind of signal? 

“Scorp?”

“Albus?” 

“I don’t just… miss you. I sort of… well. I want. You.” He cringed. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. “I guess what I mean is. I can’t believe you ever had to time travel and suffer because of me. I will never be able to make that up to you. But I still can’t bring myself to leave you alone, even if maybe it would be better for you. I don’t deserve you as a friend, let alone…” he stopped. Took a breath. “Let alone anything… else.” He bit his lip and looked up at Scorpius, who was pale as a ghost (but a very handsome ghost). 

“Oh, Albus.” Scorpius gave a short sigh. “Rose will kill me if I don’t do it after that.” 

“What?” Rose? But Scorpius had leaned in, closing the gap between them, and kissed him, very softly, on the lips. It was like a butterfly landing and fluttering away like he was barely there, he pulled back, a few centimeters away from Albus’ face. 

“I’m sorry, but Rose and I pinky-promised.” 

“Um, okay?” 

“Really, I don’t have to kiss you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Albus saw the tangible fear in Scorpius’ widening eyes. He raised his fingers, smoothing back Scorpius’ hair that had fallen onto his forehead. 

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years, you nerd.” 

“Years? Nerd?”

“Yes and yes.” Albus traced Scorpius’ ear with his fingertips, trailing down his neck. Scorpius sharply inhaled, and Albus felt shivers course through his body. But he still felt some lingering self-doubt. 

“Do you want to kiss me? Outside of this pinky-promise stuff with Rose?” 

He let his eyes meet with Scorpius’. For a brief moment there was silence, then, a smile, and then-- they were kissing again, kissing like he had never imagined it could be, with years of pent-up emotions coming out, before dissolving into blissful oblivion… 

*** SCORPIUS ***

When he broke away, he realized that he had moved off his barstool, his body pressed against Albus, whose back was against the counter, and his hands tangled in Albus’ hair, which was looking wilder than ever. Scorpius felt a brief, hideous surge of embarrassment at his enthusiasm. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so…” he felt his cheeks blush irritatingly.

“Don’t be sorry. I like it.” Albus said the words simply and with a small grin on his face, not knowing the effect they had, the tiny explosion within Scorpius’ mind. But the grin shifted to a frown. “Shit.” Scorpius followed Albus’ eyes over to the clock, which indicated that his family was traveling.

“Dammit, my parents are coming home.” 

“Did you still want to go back to the party to talk to that ministry person?” 

“I’ll just go in with my dad on Monday. Quick, let’s go upstairs before they get here.” 

But there was the distinctive pop of apparation outside, and soon after the door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter, James, and Lily walked inside. He could hear them taking off their coats and shoes, with Mr. Potter humming some music from the party and Lily arguing with James about the use of house-elves as waiters.

“Uh… act casual,” Albus advised Scorpius, which made him snigger immaturely, which made Albus start giggling. 

“We’re walking in the house now…” James’ voice was overly loud, preceding his entrance. 

“Scorpius and I are in the kitchen,” Albus responded, quickly levitating the shot glasses into the sink and flicking the Firewhiskey back into its cupboard with his wand. He found a couple of Butterbeers and passed one to Scorpius. 

“Smooth,” Scorpius whispered jokingly, and though Albus rolled his eyes, he continued to smile. With one look at Albus’ insane hair, Scorpius had the sense that they would catch the drift of what was going on, but then again, Harry seemed somewhat drunk as he waltzed in, followed by Ginny, who greeted them, looking between them knowingly but saying nothing. 

“Hey Al, Scorpius, did you guys see some of the fireworks?” Harry wrapped an arm around Albus’ shoulder, his words slurred. “S’beautiful.” 

“Yeah, they were really amazing,” Scorpius agreed. 

“Dad, are you drunk?” Albus’ tone was a mixture of judgmental and bemused. 

“Too much socializing,” Harry responded.

“Dad, how are you not used to it by now?” Lily asked, finding the bread. “Anybody else want toast and tea?” 

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Ginny responded. The toilet flushed, and soon after James joined them in the kitchen. 

“Sooooo…” James drew it out. “Albus, I told that Potioneer lady that you’d stop by the ministry tomorrow—”

“Jamie told me about that Al, really cool, you know I was thinking you could come with me, but also you don’t have to, no obligation—”

“That’s what I was thinking too, Dad.” Harry broke into a huge smile. Albus’ insides squirmed slightly less than usual at his dad’s show of emotion, and he returned the smile. 

“That’ll be great since you had to leave the party early for some reason,” James said loudly, leading, but before Albus could respond, Scorpius jumped in.

“It was me. I wasn’t feeling well. Actually, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, would it be okay if I spent the night?” Although he knew his ears were a little pink, Scorpius felt distinctly triumphant at that moment, especially from the surprised but pleased expression on Albus’ face, and the impressed one on James’. 10 points to Slytherin. 

“Of course, Scorpius, you’re always welcome to stay,” Ginny responded warmly. 

“I missed your dad at the party, Scorpius, I would never say it to his face, but I always sort of enjoy seeing him at those things, they make him so miserable…”

“Come off it, Harry, we all know you like seeing Malfoy, you don’t need to pretend to dislike him still,” Ginny teased. 

“Don’t ever let Ron hear you say that,” Harry responded, a hint of actual terror in his voice.

“Ron was very nice to me when I went to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes this morning,” Scorpius piped in. He knew relations were bad between his family and the Potter-Weasley’s, but since fourth-year things had healed a little bit. 

“That’s when you went in to ask Albus to the party,” Lily said matter-of-factly, as though stating a weather report. 

Scorpius squeaked. “Uh… yeah.”

“Did you two have fun, then?” Lily buttered her toast, speaking in the same maddeningly even tone. 

Yeah,” Albus responded, tension creeping in. Scorpius wanted to squeeze his hand but wasn’t sure how to act in front of the family. It would be up to Albus to tell them what was going on… whatever it was. “But like Scorpius said, he’s a bit tired, so I think we’re gonna go to bed now.” He darted Scorpius a quick, is that okay? look, and Scorpius gave him a small nod, yes. 

“I thought you said he was sick, not tired,” Lily clarified. 

“I was, erm, I am both. Feeling better now, but worn out, yes,” Scorpius bumbled. His previous bravado was fading under Lily’s scrutiny. 

“I think Albus still has that toothbrush you used in his bathroom,” Ginny supplied. 

“Goodnight, boys,” Harry put his arms around them both, creating a somewhat uncomfortable but still nice group hug. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Potter.”

“Please call me Harry,” he said, for the thousandth time. 

“Call him ‘The Boy Who Lived!’” James supplied, laughing. 

“I wouldn’t prefer that, but if you want to it’s okay,” Harry pleasantly said, releasing the hug. 

Albus moved to go upstairs. 

“Goodnight,” James called, “Have fun.” 

Albus groaned, but Scorpius laughed. James was actually easier on them than he thought he would be, and he hoped that it was because he was okay with the idea of them being together. These thoughts weighed on his mind as they trudged up the stairs. 

*** ALBUS ***

They had brushed their teeth silently, meeting each other’s eyes in the mirror only to smile and look away a few times. Albus felt a mixture of giddiness and nerves as he laid down in his bed, and Scorpius laid down next to him, on his back. He could tell Scorpius was worrying about something from the way he fiddled with the edge of the quilt, picking at loose threads, not quite under the covers. Albus turned over toward him, and decided to go bold—threading his fingers into Scorpius’ to halt the fidgeting and reaffirm that what happened earlier was still happening… 

“What are you thinking,” he asked. He decided at some point, maybe in the kitchen, that he was going to try to be as straightforward as possible. He had wasted too much time not being honest and direct with Scorpius about his feelings. 

“I guess…” Scorpius’ forehead wrinkled, his expression of fretting so endearing to Albus that he just wanted to kiss him again, but he had the feeling that Scorpius needed to be listened to, not kissed. “I was sort of wondering why you didn’t say anything to them? I get that it might have been awkward, but then I worried if maybe you were embarrassed or something—”

“Scorp, no. The only reason I didn’t tell them was because I wanted you to spend the night. I figured, when my parents know we’re together they’ll be annoying and make up a bunch of arbitrary rules about us being alone together or whatever.” 

“That makes sense,” Scorpius exhaled with relief. “So, we’re together, then?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean…” Albus reminded himself: honesty, straightforwardness, open communication… “Or, I did mean it, yeah, or well, I’d like to be, but I don’t want to pressure you or anything—” 

“I like you.” Scorpius cut him off. His voice was quiet, and he still laid on his back, not facing Albus. “I mean, I’ve always liked you, well, since we met, on the Hogwarts Express… and you stayed for my sweets… and then after I saw that other time, where you didn’t exist… I sort of knew. That was it for me.” Albus felt hot all over. He wanted Scorpius to look at him, but in the dim room, lit only by moonlight streaming in through the window, a shine in Scorpius’ eye, a tear perhaps. This made Albus lean his head against Scorpius’ shoulder, snuggling into it. He felt his eyelids get heavy but was determined to stay awake. “I like you so much,” Scorpius continued. “I thought I was going crazy sometimes. By the end of seventh year, I knew I couldn’t live with you anymore. But it never stopped. In London, I think about you all the time. Sometimes, in the middle of class, I just become distracted, wondering how you’re doing, what you’re doing… I felt it so much.” 

Albus swallowed thickly. He wasn’t going to cry again, but he felt like he was dreaming. He took a breath. “I felt it but didn’t really admit it to myself until sixth year, I think.” 

“Well, I’ve always been a faster learner than you,” Scorpius said after a moment, a grin creeping onto his face. 

“Really? Now?” Albus gave him a light shove, and moved off of Scorpius, onto his back. “Such a git.” Scorpius laughed and yawned. Albus loved the way his eyes looked, sleepy, relaxed. Without thinking, he leaned back in briefly, pressing his lips lightly against Scorpius’ cheek. When he pulled away, he saw Scorpius smile, and there was that warm glowy feeling between them, like an amber light. 

“When you moved, I was so happy for you, but that feeling I had, maybe it was before sixth year—”

“You can’t take it back now—” Scorpius teased.

“Really in fourth year though, I had this feeling that we were meant to be together. I didn’t know in what way, necessarily. But this past year, that feeling has only become stronger. When you walked into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, I damn near exploded from it.” 

Scorpius finally turned toward him. “I wanted to tell you so many times.” 

“We’ve both been incredibly thick,” Albus agreed, turning so they lay face-to-face. “I was worried that we wouldn’t be friends anymore, somehow,” he admitted.

“Me too. But we’re still friends, just also maybe a bit more…” 

“A bit?” Albus countered. He didn’t mean to DTR, as Lily would say, so quickly. He didn’t want to freak Scorp out. But maybe busting out the boyfriend word wasn’t too much? It wasn’t like he was admitting that he wanted them to live together in London and get married at The Burrow and have a pet cat named Flamel or anything totally nonspecific and normal like that… 

“Maybe… boyfriends?” Scorpius practically whispered. Albus nodded. And kissed him, and it was so nice. 

“I can’t believe we can finally do that now,” Scorpius said when they broke apart, faces just inches away from each other, Albus was able to look up into his eyes, that lovely bluish-gray color, that were half-closed. “But Alby, I’m sorry, but I’m getting really sleepy. I think all the anticipation kind of took it out of me.” 

“Let’s sleep now—”

“’ Cause like, I just want to stay awake so I can keep kissing you, but my body seems to disagree…” Scorpius continued, sleepily. 

“I understand—”

“No really, I feel like if I could kiss you all night it would be my favorite, but I…” he broke off into a yawn. Albus laughed lightly, he loved when Scorpius got really sleepy and spoke sort of nonsensically. 

“It’s okay, I need to sleep too. And besides, we have plenty of time.” 

“We do?”

“Yeah. We have forever, basically.” 

“So we can kiss tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“How about the day after that?”

“That’ll be yes again.” Scorpius got under the covers and snuggled against Albus. 

“Goodnight, Alby,” Scorpius’ eyes were fully closed. Albus kissed him on his temple.

“Goodnight.” 

\--- 

END.


End file.
